


Early Morning Meals

by asphodellae



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Brief Mention of Kita Shinsuke, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Minor Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu (love), Miya Atsumu can hold his own in a kitchen, Stress Baking, They're all friends, can you be homesick for one person?, stress cooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27892927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphodellae/pseuds/asphodellae
Summary: A savory smell awakens and lures MSBY to the communal kitchen at 2:48 AM, but it’s Atsumu stress cooking AND baking—is that a quiche?!
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi & Hinata Shouyou & Bokuto Koutarou & Inunaki Shion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 196





	Early Morning Meals

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i just think that on top of being teammates, they're all friends, y'know? happy reading!

The grandfather clock in the lobby of the MSBY apartment building is twelve minutes away from announcing its third hour. The building is peaceful as it stands, its residents sleeping soundly in their respective apartments.

...Perhaps it’s wishful thinking to say that anything regarding MSBY or its members will ever be peaceful. Down the hall and on the first floor, Miya Atsumu scurries about the building’s shared kitchen, cooking utensils in hand, surrounded by several freshly made dishes. Some are his personal favorites—comfort food is energy for the soul, after all—and others are made with a clear recipient in mind. The stove is still running, the oven is humming, the refrigerator _and_ the freezer are full, and only the gods and trusted confidant Kita Shinsuke know exactly when Atsumu had gone grocery shopping for all of this.

It’s his twin, Osamu, who cooks for a living, but Atsumu is never one to be outdone. The twins have cooking competitions when they have the time to bug each other, and any friends and family in the vicinity usually get to eat the aftermath, so no one is really complaining. Atsumu is a very good cook, especially when competition (against Osamu) is involved. Petty competitions like these are their love language, as hilariously absurd as that sounds.

Cooking is a way for Atsumu to stay close to his brother despite the distance between them in their adult lives. Atsumu’s schedule ends before dinner time, and whenever Osamu has a day off from the shop, they hop onto a video call and cook dinner together, hundreds of miles apart. It’s good for both of them, as their natural tendency to bicker can only be so restrained when one twin is apart from the other. Miya Atsumu cooks to relieve stress, because he loves and misses his brother all the time, and being close to him in the ways that he can is what comforts him without fail.

That being said, it’s three in the morning. The faraway sound of a grandfather clock’s chime bounces through the hallway and its fading echo meets five sets of ears, four standing in awe in the kitchen’s entryway, one focused on his work at the stove.

“What the fuck, Atsumu,” Sakusa begins, apparently the only one sane enough to be lucid and rational at this hour—according to Atsumu, Sakusa’s claim to sanity is complete horseshit, but that’s a story for another time.

“It’s three in the morning,” Hinata says quietly, shuffling toward the steaming food on the counter with no hesitation, “What are you still doing up?”

Atsumu doesn’t even look up, a storm brewed and still brewing on his face as he brandishes a spatula at a seemingly innocent omelet. “I slept!”

Four pairs of eyes poke into Atsumu’s back like he’s steak on a grill, none believing that claim for even a second.

“I can feel everyone staring at me. Let me guess... Bokkun, Wan-san, Sho-kun, and Omi Omi?”

A sleepy (sans Sakusa) chorus of grunts sounds in affirmation. The omelet sizzles and Atsumu’s hands move far faster than the half-asleep Hinata, Bokuto, and Inunaki can see. As far as they can tell, the omelet had moved out of the frying pan and onto a waiting plate by magic. The plate also has a large lettuce leaf sitting under the omelet. Where did that even _come_ from??? Where does Atsumu get giant lettuce at three in the morning?

“Tsum-Tsum, do we need to call Osamu?” Bokuto asks chidingly, although he’s just as guilty and indulgent as Hinata because they’re sitting together and eating Atsumu’s cooking like nothing is out of the ordinary. Gluttons, both of them.

Inunaki and Sakusa still stand at the entrance of the kitchen, the food pulling at their noses—a second later, their stomachs.

The oven beeps, and Atsumu flits over to a cupboard the other four hadn’t even known existed, much less _held_ anything, and pulls a set of oven mitts from its depths. The fact that Atsumu has effectively commandeered their communal kitchen for himself and _no one had noticed while he had been doing so_ digs at all of them in a funky little way, like the first cut into an ornate cake, the blade carrying with it a wave of destruction that bades sugary ornamentation to crumble and separate into its most base parts, or like the gradual descent into the madness of sleep deprivation, reducing man to his most base instincts. Lord knows they all have it now.

The oven opens and out comes a circular pan, quickly transferred to a cooling rack next to the stove. Inunaki breathes in, and _that_ , he knows by heart, is a spinach and ham quiche. His favorite kind of quiche. Okay, that’s it. He’s out. Good luck to Sakusa or whatever, he wants a slice of that in his stomach _yesterday_.

Sakusa huffs, the only person left to admonish Atsumu with actual ground to stand on. The other three eating his food and indulging Atsumu in his mildly unhealthy coping mechanisms can swallow wasabi leaves.

“There’s onigiri for ya in the fridge. Umeboshi.”

Atsumu’s accent is a little thicker, Sakusa notes briefly, in his distraction. Sakusa thinks back to his university’s psychology lectures, of which he had dropped in to listen to whenever he’d had the free time. He remembers one lecture, where the professor had spoken about a reduction in the activity of the part of the brain responsible for higher logical thinking such as decision making and focused attention. The reduction can happen for several reasons, but one of the most common causes is a heightened emotional state. The late-night stress-cooking, especially, is a coping mechanism Sakusa hasn’t seen before. What could Atsumu be upset about?

The plate of umeboshi onigiri is Sakusa’s other main concern, mainly because Atsumu had remembered Sakusa’s favorite food item and had also cooked for him. The fact that the onigiri is stored in the _fridge_ probably means that Atsumu thought about him _first_ , cooked for Sakusa _first, when his hands would be the cleanest_ , and set it aside for storage immediately.

Sakusa falls a little bit in love with At—Atsumu’s sanitary food handling procedures.

All four of them eat their food happily, reserving no small amount of concern for their setter.

“Are you going to tell us what’s wrong?” Inunaki asks between bites. Well, _someone_ had to.

Atsumu opens his mouth, but at that moment, something else beeps, and immediately the man is off again. He opens the freezer and takes out a gorgeous cheesecake, marbled with a chocolate swirl mix and dusted with silver edible glitter, and presents it to the four with a silent flourish as he sets it down on the counter.

“What the fuck,” Sakusa asks helpfully.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Hinata visibly swallows a concerning amount of food in one go before speaking, “Is there anything else you’re making?”

Atsumu takes an empty seat at the dinner table and slumps over with a groan, skull colliding into the table with a hearty _thonk_. “Growing up sucks.”

“Ah. So that’s what this is all about,” Bokuto nods sagely, mildly fearing for the brain cells that were affected in that impact.

Inunaki and Hinata hum in agreement.

But also:

“Wait, what?! That’s it?!” 

The whole table riots.

“We thought something was WRONG wrong!”

* * *

Hundreds of miles away and hours later, Miya Osamu wakes up to seventeen text messages telling him to (one) get his ass over to Osaka and (two) help them eat all Atsumu’s stress-cooked food before it goes stale.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! Atsumu is precious. no one tell him how loved he is, he won't be able to handle it. I hope this little fic entertained you as much as it did me!!
> 
> if you liked this and want to see more, come scream about MSBY and SakuAtsu with me on twitter! ([@ASPHODELLAE](https://twitter.com/ASPHODELLAE)) i'd love to hear from you!!
> 
> remember to drink water!!


End file.
